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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857225">sing for reluctant heroes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourMoonsWatching/pseuds/FourMoonsWatching'>FourMoonsWatching</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>for you i'd give the world, and you know it [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Codes &amp; Ciphers, Crying During Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Roy Mustang Cries, Secret Relationship, Set Shortly Before Brotherhood, Smut, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:06:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourMoonsWatching/pseuds/FourMoonsWatching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, nothing seems to go right.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>for you i'd give the world, and you know it [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sing for reluctant heroes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As the soldiers disperse, Roy goes looking for the nearest payphone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands are shaking as he dials the familiar number, the movements instinctive by now. Smooth and comfortable beneath his trembling fingers, almost like his favorite pen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice that answers is just as familiar. "Hello?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roy forces himself to sound cheery as he recites the coded message he'd thought up. "Hey, Elizabeth! Listen, I'll be a little late for our date tonight, sorry. Bit of a mishap at work. I'll tell you all about it when we meet up, it's quite a story. Would it be a problem if we met up half an hour late?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riza's voice on the other end of the call is a lifeline. "Could we make it a full hour, actually? My boss is trying to get me to stay late and help close up the shop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I hate to wait even longer to see you, but I can survive an hour." Despite the laughter in his voice, it's not a joke. "I'll see you at my place!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll be ready. See you then. Love you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love you too, Elizabeth." Roy doesn't want to hang up.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The walk back to his house is agony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac's escaped from under their noses yet again. The old wounds on Roy's back are aching, and he very nearly picked up some new ones. It's been a long, long day, and the fact that he didn't sleep very well last night doesn't help matters. And as if all that weren't enough, it's pouring rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just needs a break. One evening where there's no fire, no nightmares, no verbal sparring matches with Fullmetal. (God, that boy is a pain in the ass, prodigy or no - why do teenagers have to be like that, anyway?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. One hour. He'll survive one hour.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Sitting in the dim light of his little rented house, wrapped in a slightly tattered bathrobe while his sodden uniform dries (at least he doesn't have wet boxers making his ass itch anymore, thank God for small mercies), Roy's not so sure he'll make it an hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't own much other than the couch he sleeps on. Never bothered with anything more than the bare essentials, especially given how much of his life he spends at work. His house isn't a home to him, really. It's just a place to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snaps his fingers, practicing the deft motions of his alchemy. His gloves are still drying with the rest of his clothes, so he can't actually call a flame, but he can envision the flickering, hypnotic light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he feels pathetic. He's cold, he's sore, his hair is still damp, his scars ache, and he's seriously considering breaking into his emergency whiskey stash when he hears a knock at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's off the couch and answering the door immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he'd hoped, it's Riza who greets him there, her usual contacts and hawktail replaced with her civilian disguise's glasses and softer hairstyle. After the terrible day he's had, she's a vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roy chuckles lowly (can't drop the mask just yet, he's scoured the house for eavesdroppers but who knows who could be watching outside the door). "Well, you're a sight for sore eyes. Come on in."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles brightly, folds her umbrella, and steps into the dimly lit room, closing the door behind her, and the moment the lock clicks shut, Roy crumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clutches her shoulders and lets out a strangled sob, and when her arms wrap around his back he swears he could melt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trouble while I was out?" Her voice has a softness even he rarely hears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he can choke out a response, it's shaky. "You don't know the half of it. Of course I had to get called out on a patrol while you were in a meeting, and of course we had to lose track of Isaac again!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So you called me here." It's a simple statement of fact, but the implications lie thick. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If you'd wanted a romantic evening you'd have asked to come to my place, it's not much but it's way more comfortable than this mess. But you didn't. You want to forget everything for a little while. And I came here. I'll help you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A flicker of understanding passes between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riza kneels to take off her boots.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her every movement is beautiful, and now, at last, in the privacy of his own home, what's stopping Roy from staring?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches, mesmerized, as she unbuttons her cardigan, toes off her socks, strips out of her skirt and blouse. Ever the meticulous one, she neatly folds her clothes and stacks them beside the couch, and Roy can't help but smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Riza discards her underthings, laying them atop the stack of clothes, and strips the bathrobe off the transfixed Roy before draping it over the arm of the couch. She touches his cheek, and he slams back into his body all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's trembling like a leaf. He can feel tears behind his eyes and a fire in his loins (a bit of a disorienting combination, some part of him that's still zoned out notes idly). He's hard, painfully so, he can feel his racing pulse in it. His body aches from exhaustion and his heart feels hollow with old regrets, but that doesn't matter right now, the only thought that'll stay in his mind is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Riza Riza Riza</span>
  </em>
  <span> and when he pushes her back on the couch it's on autopilot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimly, Roy's aware of her deft hands guiding him to his mark, and then those hands are wrapping around his back, resting carefully against his burn scars, the ones he deliberately placed to match hers, and he's sinking into blessed heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the world falls away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, finally, Roy can breathe again, without all his many burdens weighing him down. They don't exist, for now. There's only Riza, warm and safe, ready for whatever he might throw at her in his foggy state. Riza, beneath him, around him, holding him close. Riza, his heart's desire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their arms tangle together, their heads nuzzle into the crooks of each other's necks, and Roy's not sure but he thinks his hips are moving at a furious pace. He can barely even feel the sparks of arousal skittering up and down his spine. Everything is flooded with warmth and rightness, their bodies fit together perfectly, all the pain of life has washed away. Roy can feel Riza's hand slip between them and start to rub at herself, and he bows his head to seal his lips over her breast. She cries out at that, muffling it against his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riza doesn't last long before she crests with a sharp exhale, and the sudden tightness and trembling only spur Roy on further. He drives in faster, suckles harder, not letting her come down just yet, until finally his lips detach from her skin and he throws his head back, spilling into her with an inarticulate shout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't realize he's crying until the fog of culmination thins to reveal Riza kissing away his tears.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>By the time Riza has to leave, Roy is deliciously exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tomorrow will be another day of work and its typical nonsense, no doubt. Another day of Jean rambling about his latest girlfriend and Maes about his family, of desperately trying to keep his eyes off Riza. Of military intrigues and lingering self-loathing. He can't say he's looking forward to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if his life can have nights like this one? Maybe it really is all worth it, in the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment his eyes close, he's fast asleep, too worn out to dream.</span>
</p>
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